An Unexpected Outcome of the Dreaming Confrontatio
by Seelie Spright
Summary: Shameless Clonecest from Chs. 176ish


"An Unexpected Outcome of the Dreaming Confrontation" by SeelieSpright

Word Count: 1,722

Pairing: Cloney and R!Syaoran (suggested KuroFay)

Content: Mature smut. Also, there is stabbing and blood.

Warning: Contains spoilers for the latest chapters on the dreaming (I think 175-177).

Caveat: The characters are not my own, and belong solely to CLAMP, blah blah…

Time: Immediately following Chaptire 177

Syaoran regained consciousness as Sakura vanished from the dreaming and his clone knelt over him, reaching into his chest to retrieve the feather kept there. He cried out as he felt the feather being tugged away from him, grabbing the clone's wrist as he drew his hand backward, grasping the feather. The clone bared his teeth at Syaoran, "I need it," he recited, "I must have all of the feathers." Syaoran wrestled the feather from the clone's grip and attempted to hide it within himself again, but the clone raised his sword and pointed it at Syaoran. "Give it to me," he said, "or I'll run you through." Syaoran shook his head, clutching the feather to his chest and struggled to rise, leaning his weight on souhei. The clone thrust forward with the point of his sword, and buried it in Syaoran's shoulder, baring his teeth again as he reached for the feather Syaoran so desperately sought to keep from him.

"I'll take you if you don't surrender the feather," the clone said, driving his sword deeper into Syaoran's shoulder and eliciting a grimace from his original. "You don't want to be dominated by me because I am thorough and you won't enjoy it." He began to twist the blade slightly and Syaoran cried out, but still his grip on the feather remained resolutely firm. As Syaoran's mouth opened in pain, the clone covered it with his, taking Syaoran's bottom lip between his teeth and raking them against it, pulling Syaoran's lip out in a pout. Syaoran gasped and drew back, but the clone pushed forward with his sword through Syaoran's shoulder and forced his tongue into Syaoran's mouth. Syaoran's breath was hot and laboured because of the searing pain in his shoulder, and the clone drank in the pain and the heated vitality that poured off of his original.

Still holding Syaoran still with the sword through his shoulder, the clone knelt and licked Syaoran's neck just under his jaw, tasting the salty sheen of sweat, and inhaling the distinct scent of Syaoran's body, the cloying sweet smell of his clean hair overlaid with a slight smoky scent and mixed with the sweat of exertion. The clone ran his teeth along Syaoran's jaw-line and down his neck, and was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath from Syaoran that was not caused by the pain in his shoulder at all. Syaoran was well experienced in dealing with pain, and over many years had developed skills to conceal it and push it aside because so many situations in his life required strict determination without distraction. But Syaoran was not experienced when it came to pleasure; the clone knew that well enough, as he had experienced everything with Syaoran until recently. Some time had passed during which the clone gained much more experience in the world, and had picked up a few surprises along the way he'd be delighted to torture his original with.

The clone drew his sword out of Syaoran's shoulder and pointed it at Syaoran's belly and then cut vertically from the waist upward to Syaoran's Adam's-apple. He quickly sheathed his sword and pushed against Syaoran's shoulders, forcing off his ruined shirt to fall behind, and leaving Syaoran naked from the waist upward. The clone bent and nipped Syaoran's left nipple, and his original pushed his head away. But the clone would have no opposition and gripped Syaoran's shoulders, sticking his thumb into the wound he had made on the right shoulder and causing Syaoran to cry out again and his arms go slack at his sides. 'Much better' thought the clone as he pushed Syaoran onto his back on the ground. The clone ran his rough palms up Syaoran's body feeling his taught flexing abdominal muscles, ribs and pecs. Syaoran hissed again in pleasure or pain – the clone was not interested in which. The clone bit the ridge of bone beneath Syaoran's neck and then his ribs, gently through the skin as his hands roamed along Syaoran's torso. His two hands cupped Syaoran's sides and ran downward to Syaoran's hip bones, massaging just beneath the muscle there with his thumbs, and Syaoran moaned loudly, unable to control himself any longer.

The clone liked how things were turning out. Syaoran had stopped struggling and surrendered to whatever the clone might want to inflict upon him. And Syaoran's shoulder was not bleeding too badly, but he had lost some blood, making him weaker and easier to manage. However, the shoulder was now bleeding more because it was now no longer above Syaoran's heart. It would be no good if Syaoran were to bleed to death, thought the clone, because then he could no longer torment Syaoran and the moaning would stop. The clone was far from finished and wanted to make Syaoran's torment go on for hours if he could keep Syaoran from losing consciousness before then. So, the clone reached up and placed his hand over Syaoran's shoulder, making a spell to stop the bleeding and close the wound. The clone did not take away the pain, however, as it helped to keep Syaoran weak and after all, the clone loved to see others suffer – in multiple ways preferably. The clone licked his fingers, which had become stained with Syaoran's blood when the clone touched his shoulder. He bent over Syaoran and kissed him again, forcing Syaoran to taste his own blood.

Under the clone's continued ministrations, which now involved licking and sucking upon the sensitive spot where Syaoran's legs met his hips, Syaoran had begun to writhe in ecstasy. The clone was forced to use both hands to restrain him and hold him still so he could continue his torments. Then the clone did the unthinkable for Syaoran, and quite surprised the original: He untied Syaoran's belt and pushed it away then ground his hips against Syaoran's, pressing his tool into Syaoran's to reveal that he too was equally well-endowed. Syaoran knew that the other was a clone, but did not know until then if Fey Wang Reed had made him complete in every detail – evidently so. Syaoran instantly became rock-hard and the clone gave him a devilish smirk before Syaoran closed his eyes in embarrassment, turning bright red as the clone gave out a short chuckle.

"I guess you when I'm in charge then," he said. Against his will, Syaoran's member became even more engorged, tenting his trousers. The clone gently pressed his knee against Syaoran's balls to keep him still, and gripped his hips again. Quickly, he moved backward, taking Syaoran's pants with him in a single movement. Syaoran's dick popped free and curved up toward his belly. When the clone manhandled it, Syaoran nearly came, his breath ragged, but the clone was not about to provide him release.

"Please, I beg you, let me go over the edge. I can't take this stimulation any more."

The clone laughed at Syaoran's helplessness and uncontrollable need, moving his hand from the shaft to smear the precum over the head and causing Syaoran to squirm hard again.

"I'm not nearly finished with you," he said.

The clone grabbed Syaoran's wrists and held them with one hand above Syaoran's head as he kissed Syaoran hard, their tongues clashing and breath coming in sharp inhalations. Taking advantage of the clone's unstable position atop him, Syaoran rolled out from under the clone and caused him to fall onto his side. Syaoran was upon him quickly, matched in physical strength but able to gain the advantage by surprising the clone. He stripped off the clone's shirt and loosened his pants, but he was able to do no more as the sudden movement had caused him to become light-headed. The clone quickly escaped and pinned Syaoran again, forcing his arms back and clamping his legs in spread-eagled position in a display of brutal power.

The clone went further and lifted Syaoran's legs, pressing the head of his dick against Syaoran. Syaoran made a feeble protest, but he clone knew he really did want it and would have raped Syaoran anyway if he hadn't wanted it. After penetrating initially, the clone thrust up quickly with some force, causing Syaoran's body to rock and Syaoran to cry out loudly. The clone thrust every inch in until he was buried deep, and then drew out slowly before thrusting in again. This went one for some time as the clone had a great deal of stamina and by the time he finished, Syaoran had come twice without touching himself and was entirely spent. He lay quite still in a post-cloital stupor as the clone rose, took the feather, and retrieved his shirt. The clone disappeared into shadow with only his magic-filled blue eye glowing in the dark as he departed for another dimension. Syaoran lost consciousness and faded from the dream to return to Nihon shortly after.

"How did you lose your clothes?" Fay inquired when Syaoran materialized in Nihon. Syaoran blushed horribly and did not answer, so Fay commented, "I suppose we've all had very unusual adventures, not all of which we share, so I'll retract my inquiry."

"I've lost Sakura's feather," Syaoran said, lowering his head in shame.

"Here," Kurogane said gruffly, holding out Syaoran's clothes, which had materialized when Fay was speaking. Kurogane had met Syaoran's eyes with his crimson ones in a piercing stare as if he knew exactly what had happened, as he'd extensive experience with Big Kitty in the last several months, and his eyes flicked quickly down to Syaoran's waist before they came up again.

"Sakura is inside the palace," Kurogane continued, "But rest and compose yourself before you visit her."

He walked away before Syaoran could respond, and Fay followed after saying, "Kuropon, wait up for me!"

Syaoran pulled his pants on quickly, and grimaced as the movement stretched his shoulder. It pained him horribly where the clone had stabbed him. The wound appeared to have closed, and Syaoran supposed he did not need medical treatment, but his pain was intense. He composed his face and walked gingerly to the palace, sore and exhausted. He fell immediately asleep when he lay down on the tatami mats in his room, not having the energy to unroll his futon from the closet, and dreamt of nothing.

Do let me know what you think. Please don't waste my time with flaming; it's immature and pointless. I do appreciate constructive criticism; although I already know this story doesn't involve much plot or dialogue. My second will. This one was only to satisfy my momentary Clonecest lust.

NB: Please, when composing reviews: Observe basic grammar and reread what you've just typed. Also, WRITING IN CAPS is shouting on the Internet. Emoticons are cute and I like them.


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